


Memories of Miss Hedwig

by womaninbeta



Category: Hedwig and the Angry Inch (2001), Hedwig and the Angry Inch - Trask/Mitchell
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Prose Poem, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 19:10:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3907390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/womaninbeta/pseuds/womaninbeta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short Hedwig/Reader fic where you recall your time with the queen, both good and bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories of Miss Hedwig

Some nights you’d find her in angry tears. “Booze or cuddles?” you’d ask. She would respond in one of two ways: either she’d shrink away from you, saying nothing, tearing off a little chunk of your heart, or she’d want both.

Other nights, you’d hear her singing before you opened the door. “This is it,” she’d tell you, smiling through smudged glitter, “this is the new song!” And she’d make you sit down and listen before you had your shoes off.

Some days the two of you would sing together, about satellites and gummy bears, about love and bullshit. “You’re amazing,” you would say, not as often as you wanted, even though she’d wink and agree with you. And you’d fall asleep wearing her lipstick.

Other days she’d be poring over her notebooks and forgetting to eat. “So sweet,” she’d say when you wrapped her in a blanket and combed her hair.

Some nights you worshiped her with your tongue, and she kissed you so hard and held you so close that you could forget the sun would rise.

Other nights you’d fall asleep on a wet pillow in an empty bed, and you never felt angry, only inadequate.

Some days you vacuumed up golden strands of wig hair, never guessing you’d come to miss them.

Other days you laughed lines into your face and wiped mascara onto your sleeves. “I love you,” you’d tell her. “I love you,” she’d say, not as often as you wanted.

And maybe sometimes you got it wrong; maybe you found her most beautiful when she was breaking down, maybe you loved her most when she needed you.

But now you remember the days and nights when her ego melted away and you looked behind it, one glimpse at a time. And a little smile creeps up on you.


End file.
